Monster
by thebrokencradle
Summary: He tore my clothes right off ' he ate my heart and then he ate my brain..." Lady Gaga "Monster". He was startlingly polite and civil, for a Monster... Rated for Violence and mild Sexual Themes.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I am a big fan of Hook. Strange, I know, but I've always seen him as something of a well-mannered serial killer. Imagine the lovechild of Mr. Darcy and Sweeney Todd and you might get an idea.

Medbay on the Nemesis was held in the same regard as the smelting pits. If a report read "unconscious in medbay" the others tended to equate that phrase with "doomed". It wasn't because of Mixmaster or Scrapper, or even Bonecrusher, all of whom tended to sneer upon the idea of repairing their comrades. Long Haul did nothing but complain and wasn't often found in medbay period and Scavenger was still too young and meek to be allowed to use the tools much less perform even the simplest medical procedures.

No, the danger lay with the oldest of the Constructicon brood: Hook. If he wasn't working on a project with his fellows he could be found in medbay or in his lab. No one had ever set foot in Hook's lab and lived to tell about it. Megatron didn't even send Autobot prisoners to Hook, instead sending them to Vortex, who was by far much more merciful than the deranged medic.

/Hook!/ Megatron called over the comm. Link, the medic pausing in his latest project before answering in his usual tone.

/Yes?/

/Come into the Control Room, I believe I have something that will be of interest to you…/

Hook blinked before calling back in the affirmative.

Hook was more slender than his fellows, his red visor making his sculpted face seem narrower. He walked gracefully and was painfully polite, but his sharp tongue and aloof nature put many of his fellows off.

There was a loud ruckus coming from the Control Room and Hook sneered. Sounded like a brawl. Whatever would interest him in his comrades tearing one another apart so that he would have to put them back together?

There was a shrill shriek and Hook was surprised as a slender form was tossed his way, his arms shooting out reflexively to catch it.

"Ah, Hook, so glad you could meet our guest," Megatron grinned from his throne, watching the medic shove the prisoner to the ground. "Meet our dear friend, Autobot Sniper, Bluestreak."

"Gaah!" Bluestreak scrambled backwards and Hook grinned lop-sidedly as the Datsun, noting the table set up in the center of the room.

"We've met before, haven't we, Sweetspark?"

"Get away from me, filth!" Bluestreak shrieked, scrambling over the table, keeping the object between himself and Hook. The Decepticon Medic slinked around the room, circling the smaller mech like a cat stalking a frightened bird.

"Filth, am I?" Hook asked, sneering as he reached behind his back to grab his crane hook.

"Kaon filth from the slagging pit!" Bluestreak shrieked, stumbling backwards. Hook suddenly threw his reel at the youngling, snapping the long cord so that the hook on the end looped around Bluestreak's waist, pinning his arms to his side as Hook cracked his temporary whip, reeling the Autobot in deftly. "Let me go!"

"But we had so much fun last time, My Sweet…" Hook whispered into the Datsun's audio, holding him tightly to his chest.

There were hoots and whistles along with crude remarks from the crowd gathered in the Control Room but Hook ignored them as he turned Bluestreak around and slammed him into the table. He removed his Crane with a hiss of pressurized air and a series of sharp clicks before he began to bind the squirming Autobot to the table, legs and arms spread, doorwings twitching over the edge of the round surface, his head lolling and tossing as he tried to struggle out of his bind.

"That's much better." Hook sighed, clicking open his subspace compartments and flicking his favorite scalpel out. "Brings back memories, hmm?"

"Let me go…" Bluestreak whimpered and Hook grinned.

"But we had so much fun last time…"

"No! No, I hate you! I hate you, Hook!" Hook blinked before he grinned.

"No you don't." He laughed, reaching out with his scalpel and flicking the crackling energon blade over the youngling's chest, abdomen and pelvic armor, the armor popping and curling while Bluestreak shrieked in pain.

"Hook! Hook, stop!" Bluestreak tried to buck off of the table but Hook was already on top of him, tearing open his armor, energon spurting across his face as wires and energon lines were ruptured. Bluestreak choked on his own energon, whimpering as Hook grinned and began to lap up his life-fluids.

"You always were the sweetest little whore." Hook chuckled, energon dribbling down his chin and body, his hand covered in it as he traced the intricacies of Bluestreak's protoform.

Mechs were actually becoming slightly horrified as Hook began to meticulously take Bluestreak's chest apart, removing his fuel pomps and tanks before jerking out the park chamber, the sphere connected to Bluestreak's body by a small umbilical cord. Hook rolled it in his hand experimentally and Bluestreak whimpered and gasped, arching weakly into the careful touch. Hook smirked and placed the spark aside.

"We'll be getting to that later, my sweet."

"What is he doing?"

"I don't know…" The whispers filled the room along with Bluestreaks confused cries. Hook pulled out a strange mechanism from his subspace and Bluestreak gasped as a series of clicks emitted from the object and several long mechanical tentacles emerged from the object. He squirmed as Hook looked over the item before looking down at Bluestreak's interfacing hardware. He was a port mech so Hook had a perfectly good orfice to shove his tool into.

"Please… Don't…" Bluestreak whimpered and Hook grinned.

"Don't do what? This?" Hook jammed the object into Bluestreak's port, breaking past the seal easily. Bluestreak jerked and howled, feeling the tentacles wrapping around his motor cables. He jerked and whined, staring up at Hook as the tentacles strummed the cables, causing his pelvis to jerk upwards rhythmically. Hook grinned and jerked the rod further in, sending electrical shocks through it sharply.

Bluestreak whined and writhed, the other mechs in the room cringing as Hook dropped the rod, still impaled in the smaller mech, and walked around to his face.

"Now let's see…" Hook reached down and tweaked Bluestreak's chevron before his long fingers traced bright blue optics. "Such an unsightly color." Hook sneered, his finger scraping the sensitive optical glass. Bluestreak whined and his optics flickered as Hook finally managed to puncture the glass with his thumb, the rolling optic flickering and sparking, the agony of the sensitive circuitry exposed to the air causing Bluestreak to go limp, unable to fight it any longer.

"Stay with me, My Sweet." Hook chuckled, slicing a clean line down Bluestreak's face from his chevron to his chin. The other mechs cringed and tried not to look away as the thin dermal plating was peeled away to expose Bluestreak's base skeletal and protoform structure.

"Such a pretty face." Hook chuckled, tossing the facial plates aside before he went back to the shock rod. He jerked it out, pulling Bluestreak's motor cables out as well, the youngling letting out a series of staticky sparkling-like clicks and squeals, the most base sounds of pain and fear a mech could make.

"Finish this, Hook." Megatron's indifferent voice called and Hook grinned, picking up the still fluttering spark within its spherical chamber. He carefully cut open the thin glass, spark plasma leaking onto his fingers as he lifted the chamber to his lips, swallowing the spark like the finest energon.

Skywarp trembled and turned away, retching and regurgitating the energon in his fuel tanks, Votrex turning his gaze away as Megatron smirked and leaned back in his throne.

Bluestreak's body gave a final death rattle before going a stark gray, his remaining optic going offline in death.

Hook looked up, the glowing blue plasma coating his lips as he looked up with a grin, his tongue running over his sharp denta, savoring the taste as he turned to Megatron.

"By your leave, my Lord." He chuckled and Megatron waved him off. Hook turned to leave, glancing at the corpse before him. He picked up the faceplate and spark chamber, subspacing the items, before tearing off the elegant doorwings, walking out of the room without a second glance to the corpse.

Hook sat in his lab, the truck-bed chair creaking under his weight as he lounged within it lazily, chin resting on his palm as he licked his fingers of the energon and spark plasma residue.

He had repaired Bluestreak's faceplate and it now decorated his wall, the doorwings connected to the large fan behind the grating made of energon tubing, the soft glow of LED lights laced through the delicate tubing illuminating the lab with a pale green glow. Hook walked over to his desk, placing the spark chamber down on the seeker wing surface before fishing around in his meticulously organized tool kit for an engraver. The tiny tool buzzed to life and squealed loudly as Hook engraved Bluestreak's name in his neat script on the surface, blowing away glass dust before placing the orb on a shelf littered with many more.

Hook hummed and laid back in his chair, watching the light glinting off of the mobile made of glass shards of seeker-cockpits and ground bound mech's windshields, lulled to recharge to visit dreams of his young mate wrapped in his arms.

"Scalpel…" He sighed, drifting into stasis slowly.

_He had been one of the brightest students of the Academy, though he was often overlooked due to being somewhat more average than other mechs. Starscream, Perceptor and Skyfire were all well known, but Scalpel had been a small shadow in a corner compared to the brightly shining students before him. He would mumble and constantly be jotting down notes on his datapads, always so much smaller and hunched over than the others around him, his magnified eyes dissecting the world before him._

_He had always had the more… morbid… science projects as well, and that was part of what had drawn Hook to him. He and Scavenger had gone to the science exhibition on the younger mech's request – the others being too busy to take the youngest sibling – and Hook had instantly looked around him in disgust._

_He was appalled by the crude construction and engineering of the mechanisms and experiments displayed, casting the entire thing aside as a joke. He had gone up to almost ever booth and mocked the invention before turning to the inventor and delivering similar harsh treatment while Scavenger was content to ignore his gestalt mate and play around with the items before him._

_But when Hook caught sight of Scalpel… He was struck dumb. He stared at the younger mech who stood so proudly, a patchwork of second-hand parts, a pair of small, skeletal doorwings, a glass chestplate displaying his inner workings, wheeled feet and a single clawed hand, the other modified with long blades for each finger, sitting in a chair looking incredibly bored with a deactivated drone next to him. His large blood red optics looked up as Hook approached and a small smirk formed on the engineer's face as he walked over, observing the chair._

"_And what would this experiment be?"_

"_This is being experiment in interrogation." The accent was a heavy Polyhexian one and the mech stood, placing the drone in the chair. _

_Hook watched with morbid fascination as the mech explained the machine, the chair humming to life softly and several long tendrils latched onto the drone, drilling small holes with their spiked tips into the cranium, invading and connecting to the main processors and extracting information from it. The drone convulsed and electric impulses fired through the tentacles into the processors, draining more energy and power from the machine before finally the drone shuddered and went limp, clattering in its seat. Hook stared at the drone before looking at Scalpel._

"_That was incredibly sick, twisted and sadistic." He stated before leaning forward with a grin. "I like that…" Hook held out his hand, palm facing the other mech. "My name is Hook."_

_There were several ways the younger mech could respond to this, Hook was surprised when he got a once over before the smaller mech reached up and slid his spindly claws through the gaps between Hook's fingers, smirking as he initiated the invitation._

"_Scalpel."_

Hook groaned and opened his eyes, looking around his lab. He whined at the loss of his mate that he suffered every time he woke up, feeling his empty spark throb. He could almost feel the lingering of thin, welded lips on his mouth.

He sighed and sat upright, his truck-bed chair groaning and creaking on its axles as he moved, slumping against his work table built from seeker wings, staring at the unfinished body before him. It was thin and skeletal, with wide red eyes set that they could magnify infinitely and a familiar long, bladed hand made of energon blades. Hot energon pumped through various lines connected to metal pumps across the room and Hook ducked and wove through the veritable web of life support wires and lines. He finally made it to the small computer terminal, beginning the tedious task of typing code.

A mech's personality wasn't determined by their spark, unlike what many less educated mech believed. A mech could have been a perfectly wonderful Autobot, but the removal and implantation of certain codes and commands would be able to render even the staunchest Autobot supporter a merciless killer… Scalpel had been an expert on these sort of things, his methods unconventional and inevitably cruel but his genius had been unmatched.

There was a banging at his door and Hook didn't look up as it hissed open, glancing up to see one of the Seekers.

"Umm… H-hey, Hook… Yeah, I accidentally did something to my wing… It's nothing big but I was wondering if you could-" There was an obnoxious screech and Hook jumped, turning to see Skywarp standing in front of him, watching in horror as the jet's own left wing – connected to his body by a few measly wires and energon lines – fell to the ground. Energon gushed from the wound and Skywarp crumpled to the ground. He was never good with pain, unlike Starscream. Hook sighed whistfully. Now there was a mech who could handle agony – who literally craved it… He had gotten a few good overloads from the lustful seeker throwing himself at the medic whenever he was repaired. By far, his most favorite patient.

Hook returned to his typing, waiting for Skywarp's self repairs to cut off the leaks. The injuries weren't life threatening, after all. A pity…

****_**THREE MONTHS LATER…**_****

No one would ever fathom why Hook saved the young Autobot medical apprentice, First Aide. He could chalk it up to temporary insanity – he had, after all, shot the young brat after he was hauled out of Menasor's way – but his real reason was only known to his fellow Gestaltmates: He wanted the mech's spark.

First Aide was like Scalpel in Autobot form: gentle and kind and understanding, but firm and not someone to be trifled with. Oh, he lacked the Decepticon's blatant sadism and lust for energon, but codes could be deleted and rewritten… Mechs could be changed very easily…

First Aide stared up at Hook after being tackled out of the way of the large combiner, trembling ever so slightly as Hook stared down at him, face impassive and hands braced on either side of his head.

"Thank you." Aide whispered meekly and Hook glared at him before standing up and pulling out his blaster, firing a shot at the Autobot's leg. Aide screamed and curled up, shuddering with pain and Hook turned and left, returning to field repairs and fighting off the enemy from his patients.

A loud roar and one of the Dinobots was charging him, hands balled up into fists, ready to maul the Constructicon medic.

"Me Slag no like Decepticons!" Hook sighed and turned, staring at the mech until he was within reach of the large arms. Before dodging to the side, his scalpel in hand as he severed several wires in Slag's left arm, rendering them useless, he grabbed Slag's helm and snapped his head back, the Dinobot in absolute shock as the smaller mech sunk his sharp denta into the tender metal of his audial, tearing it out before delving his hand into his cranium.

A primal scream and Megatron's voice over it calling a retreat registered to Hook's crazed mind and he clenched his fist, tearing it out of the bot's head before tossing him aside, the enormous bulk of the dinobot slumping to the ground in a sparking, convulsing heap.

Hook snarled as he tried to pull himself together, his gestalt mates watching him as he stalked through the

"_I want to be watching you with the Autobot." Scalpel chuckled, watching his mate prepare his tools as the Autobot youngling whimpered as he tried to release his bonds. The smaller Decepticon was sprawled across the medical berth in the Medbay, Hook watching him with a smirk as he watched his mate, hands sliding over Bluestreak's chest._

"_I'm merely supposed to sever his motor functions, nothing more or less."_

"_But we can be having the "funs" at the same time, Da?" Scalpel smirked, trailing his own fingers over his chest in a parody of Hook's gesture, lingering at his waistline as Hook stroked the area just above pelvic armor, the Datsun squirming and whimpering._

"_I suppose…" Bluestreak cried out in horror when Hook's long, four jointed servos plunged into the armor, prying it off to reveal his interfacing hardware. The only way to access motor function cables was through the interfacing array, the sensitive bundle of cables being known as a mech's "sweet spot". It was highly sensitive and if one stimulated the patient correctly it would be incredibly easy to cut off all motor functions. _

_Hook smirked as he watched Scalpel, the smaller mech mimicking his motions as he thrust his fingers into Bluestreak's valve, the extra long digits easily finding the motor cables and stroking them gently. Bluestreak whimpered as he legs twitched and jerked, his motor functions reacting against his will._

"_So beautiful, Da?" Scalpel whimpered as he stood and leaned over Bluestreak, crawling onto the berth and kissing Hook gently, Bluestreak's gaze fixed on the scene. _

_Hook's fingers curled around the cables and he suddenly jerked them clean out of Bluestreak's port, the younger mech screeching in agony while Scalpel let out an aroused gasp, optics dim with lust as he looked down at Bluestreak's agony twisted face, whimpering and moving to straddle the young mech._

"_So beautiful…"_


	2. Chapter 2

"Ratchet?" The CMO looked up as his apprentice walked into his office carefully, ready to leave should Ratchet tell him to.

"Yes, First Aide?"

"What do you know about… Hook?" Ratchet was startled by the question, staring at his creation before blinking and shrugging.

"Not many Autobots know much about Hook, other than if you're given to him you won't survive." Bluestreak's death had hit the entire crew very hard, especially when they saw the condition his corpse was in. The Protectobots, Dinobots and Aerialbots had been herded away from the sight when they became curious.

"Does he… Help other mechs?"

"Not usually." Ratchet was frowning now, looking First Aide over critically. "Aide, is there something you need to tell me?"

"I just… I… The last battle… He…" Ratchet was on his pedes in an instant, in front of his protégé and grabbing his shoulders, running a scan frantically.

"What did he do? Did he touch you? Aide, what happened?"

"Nothing! He actually saved me from Menasor then turned and shot me in the pede when I was out of danger." First Aide protested, grabbing his creator's servos.

Ratchet was silent, frowning slightly before he looked at First Aide, gripping him firmly.

"I'm taking you off of field operations. If Hook has taken a sudden interest in you then it is best that you not be in any situations where you'll cross paths with him."

"But Ratchet, he didn't do anything!"

"Yet." Ratchet whispered, frowning deeply as he recalled another young medic with potential that Hook had taken an interest in…

"_Scalpel?" Ratchet looked at his creation as he fiddled with his hand modification. It had been a necessity at the time, Scalpel's hand had been hacked off when he was a sparkling and when Ratchet had operated they had been short on supplies. Scalpel had refused to have his hackwork hand changed and so over the years had modified it himself. One of the long, knicked blades clattered to the ground and Scalpel carefully rewired his fingers._

"_Yes?"_

"_Do you need any help?" Scalpel looked up at his creator and smiled._

"_Please?" Ratchet smiled and sat on the berth next to Scalpel, looking at the small retractable energon blades next to his creation's legs. _

"_Did you make these yourself?"_

"_Yep." Scalpel smiled as Ratchet redirected the energon in his fingers into the blades. "Hook had his brother help me design them." Scalpel smiled and flexed one finger, the blade coming out with a soft hum. _

"_Oh… Hook…" Ratchet hadn't been all that fond of his sparkling's "beau". There was something about the Constructicon that brought out something in Scalpel, and he was slightly disturbed by what he saw._

"_He's taking me out tonight, I wanted to surprise him." Ratchet smiled at his youngling's bright smile. It was so hard to be upset when Scalpel smiled like that._

"_Creator Ratchet?" Scalpel's wide red eyes stared at Ratchet. "Are you… proud of me?"_

"_Scalpel, I will always be proud of you, my sparkling." Ratchet smiled, cupping his youngling's face. Scalpel smiled and offlined his optics, trilling loudly as Ratchet traced his face with his thumb. "You're so much like your Creator."_

_Scalpel smiled and touched his Creator's hand before there was a loud buzz of the door._

"_Oh!" Scalpel held his hand and looked up at his Creator. "It's Hook! Um…" Scalpel looked down at his hand. "Could you stall him for a few minutes? I can finish this up."_

"_Alright, sparkling." Scalpel smiled as Ratchet left down the hall to answer the door._

"_Ah… you must be Ratchet." Ratchet looked over the Constructicon for the first time since he and his sparkling had started going out together. "I'm Hook, I'm here to pick up Scalpel." Hook smiled charmingly and Ratchet stared at him before stepping aside._

"_Come in, Come in, Scalpel is getting ready." Ratchet gestured to the couch and smiled. "Energon? I only have mid-grade at the moment."_

"_No thank you, we'll be going out for a meal later on." Hook smiled and sat down, completely at ease in front of the creator of his beau._

"_Oh, well, then…" Ratchet's face dropped and he gave Hook a critical once over. Nice, neat paintjob, the colors incredibly gaudy but he still was nice and cleaned up. "I don't need to tell you that Scalpel is my only Creation. His other Creator died when he was very young and he's very hurt. He's my little sparkling, my light, and if you do anything to hurt him I swear I will rip your spike out through your throat."_

"_Yes, sir, nothing will happen to Scalpel, sir."_

"_I do hope that doesn't mean that absolutely nothing happens to me?" Hook and Ratchet turned to see Scalpel standing in front of them, Hook's gaze immediately drawn to the younger mech's bladed hand._

"_Is that-"_

"_Scrapper's design? Hmm… Yeah." Scalpel stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Hook's, looking over at Ratchet. "You didn't give him a hard time, did you, Creator?"_

"_No, we just had some friendly chit-chat." Ratchet smiled, waving at the two. "Go, you little petro-rabbits, make merry love and stay away from war." The medic chuckled and Scalpel smiled._

"_Love you, Creator Ratchet." Scalpel smiled, allowing himself to be led out. "Don't stay up for me."_

Hook sighed as he downed another cube of high grade. Mixmaster had brewed it only recently so it hadn't acquired the fine, sweet taste that properly brewed energon held. But it still had the desired effects. Hook, by his seventh cube, was plastered, by his fifteenth he was reduced to staring into space, wallowing in long ignored memories and soaking in the deep seated pain in his spark.

_Hook chuckled as he and Scalpel circled the room, watching the long energon blades crackle with raw energy as the younger mech stared at their victim._

"_Your Creator is… Nice…"_

"_You're just saying that." Scalpel chuckled. "He's a stubborn jack-aft with a drinking problem and makes very real threats that he is more than capable of pulling off."_

"_I prefer my spike where it is." Hook stated and Scalpel laughed, touching the mech that they had tied to a table on the head, singeing his paint and causing him to cry out in pain._

"_I really like your spike where it is, too." Scalpel chuckled. "So much easier for my enjoyment."_

"_You filthy little turbo-fox." Hook laughed and Scalpel smirked, crawling over the body of their captive._

"_You love me."_

"_That I do, sweetspark…" Hook murmured, stepping forward and sliding his palm over the bound mech's chest and pelvis, optics never leaving Scalpel's. Scalpel smirked and tilted his head, leaning forward for a kiss. Hook granted it to him, his fingers curling and sliding back up their captive's chest._

"_Oooh…" Scalpel moaned as he watched Hook forcefully pry open the chestplates, ignoring the screams and begging of their captive. "So hungry, Hook…" He placed his modded hand over Hooks, slicing through delicate wires and thick plating on the mech's chest, exposing the glassy orb of the spark chamber._

"_I'm starving…" Hook growled, lunging forward as his hand plunged in to wrap around the captive spark._

_The kiss was more denta and glossae than anything and Scalpel chuckled into it, wrapping an arm around Hook's neck to pull him closer, feeling the body beneath him give convulsing shakes, energon leaking hot and fast over his thighs and legs._

"_Feed me…" Scalpel hissed and Hook brought up the spark chamber between them, not severing the long umbilical cord._

"_Please…" Scalpel glanced down at the mech beneath him, smirking at the terrified, pained expression._

"_Don't worry, you'll enjoy this." He cooed before turning and deftly puncturing a hole into the spark chamber. He tilted his head as Hook raised the chamber, the glowing blue plasma leaking out and dribbling across the smaller mech's face and into his mouth, moaning as he clutched at Hook._

_The Contructicon growled and licked at a stray trail of plasma leaking down Scalpel's chin, neck and chest Scalpel grabbed his beau's face and jerked him upwards, transferring some of the spark plasma into the Constructicon's mouth, glossae tangling and bodies vibrating._

"_You're so beautiful like this…" Hook whispered, sliding his free hand over Scalpel's lumbar strut, cupping his aft gently before pulling him forward. "I wish I could take a picture of you in this moment and let it carry half of the feeling and beauty and perfection…"_

_Scalpel moaned and pressed the spark chamber to Hook's own mouth, licking the opposite side and sucking on it gently._

"_Shh… Don't talk… Just feel…" Hook moaned and suckled from the spark chamber, watching the dying mech beneath his slender mismatched lover, feeling his spark calling out to the other passionately._

_Suddenly he gasped as Scalpel slid his claws into his side, stroking delicate wires and thick tubing, his mouth latching onto Hook's neck cables as he moaned low and wanton._

"_Want to taste…" Scalpel whispered, sliding his hand to Hook's crotchplate. "Want to feel you…"_

_And Hook was helpless to deny him. _

Hook jerked upright, panting and gasping as the memory purge left him, shuddering as he flopped back onto his truck-bed chair. The image of Scalpel covered in spark plasma and smirking up at him from between his thighs lingered as he shuddered and rubbed his optics.

"Scalpel… Primus, I miss you…" He whispered before staring at the ceiling of his lab, mourning the loss of his sparkmate. His bonded.

He looked around, noting the cubes and the time displayed on the chronometer. He needed to get everything cleaned up before people started actually coming to see him.

****

"Hello? Cybertron to First Aide, do you read me?" First Aide actually swerved at the call, casting his sensors over to Jazz.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you say something?" Jazz chuckled and First Aide felt himself heat up in embarrassment. He had been spacing out a lot recently and whenever he was alone he felt as if he was being watched. It left him edgy and absent minded. Ratchet had been true to his word, keeping his Creation off the battlefield and away from Hook, having Prowl put him on patrol routes and extra medical-bay time instead.

"Ya alright, man? Ya seem a bit out of it."

"I… I'm not sure." First Aide sighed. "I just haven't been all that settled recently and I-" He was cut off by a blip on his radar and Jazz caught it too, noticing the proximity of the Decepticon signal. "Jazz-"

"I see it." Jazz's voice sounded strained and he transformed, unsubspacing his weapon. "Aide, you might want to take cover, this won't be pretty."

"Why? Jazz, what's wrong?"

"Get down!" Jazz dodged a large hook that snapped towards him.

"Jazz!"

The hook snapped back around, looping around Jazz's waist and jerking the smaller mech forward. Jazz shouted and tried to shoot at the large mech that had stepped out from behind a boulder.

"Now don't be so crass." Hook sighed, whipping his long cable and hook around, slamming Jazz into the boulder he had been lurking behind. Jazz grunted as his bumber buckled in, sliding to the ground as Hook flicked his wrist, his hook slithering back to his back as he turned to First Aide, who was frozen in car form, shocked at what had just happened. Nobody ever managed to catch Jazz. Ever.

"Now be a good little sweetspark and don't run." Hook stated as he stepped forward, pulling out a long, thin wand that First Aide recognized as a device used to induce forced transformation.

First Aide revved his engine and backpedaled as fast as he could, trying to escape the much larger mech's grasp.

"Don't even bother, sweetspark." Hook sighed, reaching behind his back and grabbing his hook, swinging it around until he had a good length on it before cracking it forward in a whip-like motion, hooking onto First Aide's bumper and jerking the small car back. First Aide gunned his engine to its fullest and opened his throttle wide, the smell of burning rubber filling the air as he kicked up dust behind him.

Hook chuckled.

"A noble effort." He smirked, jerking his cable back with the car still attached at the end. "But futile, nonetheless."

He waved the wand over First Aide's hood and the younger mech cried out in alarm as his transformation cog clicked and he began to transform, wriggling as Hook grabbed his arm and wrapped the cable around it before grabbing the other arm.

"No! What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" First Aide howled, trying to jerk away but the cabling cut into his armor and joints, aggravating sensitive wires underneath.

"Don't worry, Scalpel… You'll be back soon…"

First Aide whimpered as the needle was inserted into his jugular energon tube, feeling the foreign drug coursing through him sluggishly.

"Hook…" First Aide whimpered, falling limp in Hook's arms.

"Put him down, you bastard." Hook turned, First Aide dangling from his arms. Jazz was standing, though barely, with his gun trained on Hook.

"You wouldn't grudge me my bondmate, would you, Jazz?"

Jazz was silent but the click of the safety being taken off of the gun was audible in the silence. First Aide was blearily looking at Jazz, visor flickering as he washoisted higher.

"Put him down and I won't shoot your processors out."

"I wonder what lengths one so devoted would go to should Prowl ever be taken away from you." Hook chuckled, stepping forward. Jazz's trigger finger twitched and Hook took another step. "What lengths would you go to in order to bring him back to you?"

"Shut up, Decepticreep, and put First Aide down." Jazz's hand was shaking and Hook stared down at him. "He ain't your bondmate. Whatever ya think he is, he ain't that." Jazz snarled. "You're a sick, twisted, delirious psychopath and First Aide ain't Scalpel!"

"Would you kill for him? Would you murder anyone who got in your path to bring back your bondmate? Would you bleed for him? Die for him? Would you hold a gun to your commander's head for Megatron to bring him back?" Hook continued with his Hannibal Lecture, stepping forward, Jazz stepping back, trying to avoid First Aide getting in his crosshairs.

"You slag-sucking glitching motherboard!" Jazz shrieked, lunging forward in pure rage. Hook snatched the gun from his hand and fired off two shots, Jazz gapping and falling to his knees, clutching his abdomen and gushing energon from his shoulder.

"I've done so much to get my mate back… I certainly wouldn't think twice about killing you."

"Why don't you?" Jazz asked wearily, quickly bleeding out on the hard desert ground.

"I won't be so cruel as to separate bondmates." Hook stated firmly before firing off one last shot into Jazz's already blown open abdomen plating.

First Aide whimpered as he came back online, feeling someone gently stroking his face gently. He moaned when those long, firm fingers pressed against his lips and caressed the part, moving on to trace his olfactory sensor and optics.

Wait. His mask… His visor… Optics onlined and First Aide groaned as glaring red light filled his vision. He offlined his optics and turned his head.

"Shh… Don't move suddenly, my sweetspark…" First Aide jerked and onlined his optics, slowly turning to see the broad red visor staring down at him.

Hook was smiling… tenderly… Not smirking or sneering, actually smiling down at the young medic in training.

"Scalpel…" Hook whispered. "You're home now… Shh…"

"Scalpel? No, I'm First Aide… Why are you doing this? Where am I?"

"Shh… You're in a safe place… No one will ever find you here…"

"But I'm not Scalpel, you have the wrong mech!"

"No… No, you're Scalpel…" Hook bowed down and kissed First Aide's chestplate, sighing and pressing his audial to it to listen to the thrum and pulse of the younger mech's spark and internals. "He took you from me, killed you and put you in this Autobot body… He thought he could hide you from me…" Hook chuckled and looked up at First Aide, a slightly mad gleam in his visor and crooked grin. "But now you're here… You've forgotten, but you'll remember… I have everything ready…" First Aide watched in horror as the mech walked over to a table, picking up a motherboard and looming over the younger mech's cranium.

"What are you doing?" First Aide gasped as his helm was pulled away easily to reveal the tangled, throbbing mass of wires, circuitboards and energon tubes.

"I'm installing your original coding, Decepticon coding."

"You can't do that!"

"Not all at once, no, I'd fry your processors and then I'd have to build them up again. And that would be a waste of time… No, nice and slow… You'll remember me and everything… I just need time…"

****

Ratchet sat in his medbay, staring at the floor in shock. He'd been that way for four hours.

"Ratch'…"

"I should have kept him here…" Ratchet whispered and Wheeljack paused, staring at his friend. "I… I thought Hook would just leave… When Scalpel died…"

"Ratchet, you need recharge, come on."

"It's all my fault, Jack!" Ratchet suddenly shouted, looking up at his friend with a pained expression. "It wasn't enough that I had to keep Hannibal away from my sparkling but I had to keep that monster of a Con away too? I lost Scalpel to him, now I'm losing First Aide too?" Ratchet rarely broke down. Ever since his first bondmate's death he had not broken down in front of anyone once. But now… Now old memories were being dug up, scabs that he had thought long healed over being picked at and made to bleed.

"Scalpel… First Aide… Who next, Wheeljack?" Ratchet looked at his bondmate. "Who is he going to take from me next? Fireflight? Streetwise?" Ratchet gave a dry sob. "I can't do this… I can't keep losing my sparklings…"

"Ratchet, calm down, you need to refuel and recharge, you're tired and stressed, just calm down." Ratchet keened in pain and covered his optics, collapsing against Wheeljack heavily. Wheeljack sighed and held his friend and bondmate, stroking his chevron slowly, staring at the wall as Ratchet sobbed into his arms, the low mechanical keens and whines only heard by Wheeljack.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hannibal is mine. All other characters are property of Hasbro, including Scalpel. He was the mini D-Con doctor from the recent Transformers live action movie but I wanted him to be in the G1 series. His design and personality are my ideas but I'm just taking artistic liberty here.

"_Remember, Scalpel, jou are Decepticon, jou are strong, hearty, und jou shall never fall." Scalpel cooed and clicked as Hannibal held him, the large pallid mech smiling down at his creation. Hannibal was larger than Ratchet and pure white with black tattoos around his face and on his arms. His thick armor was spiked in certain places and his hands were large enough that he could easily hold his sparkling in a single palm. Scalpel was so small, so delicate compared to him…_

_Ratchet smiled from the doorway as he watched Hannibal croon and click to his sparkling, the enormous warrior tickling the tiny gray pedes. They were poor and they hadn't been able to provide much in the way of parts or paint for their creation's protoform. Many of his parts were mismatched and oversized second hand pieces and they were all colored a dull gray._

"_He loves your voice." Ratchet stated and Hannibal smirked, turning to see the medic smiling at him and their sparkling._

"_He vill be a strong mech."_

"_He has your optics." Ratchet smiled, tracing the red lenses gently. He always loved his mate's eyes, they were passionate and bright, so unlike his own cool, calm blue._

"_He vill being Decepticon. Decepticon red for Decepticon youngling." Ratchet sighed and smiled, leaning against his mate and gently stroking his sparkling, listening to Hannibal's passionate tyraide, taking in the deep voice with the thick Polyhexian accent. He could listen to that voice for the rest of his lifecycle and never tire of it…_

First Aide sobbed and clutched his helm, banging around in the small room, blindly clawing at the walls and at his own cranium.

"Why are you doing this to me!" He shrieked for the Primus knows what numbered time. Hook's smooth voice penetrated the air.

"I'm fixing you, Scalpel…"

"I'm not Scalpel! These memories aren't mine! My name is First Aide, Autobot Medic in Training, I was created on earth in the year-"

"You're Scalpel! They've lied! You're not who they say you are!" The crazed roar echoed around him and First Aide whimpered, falling to his knees and sobbing as the memories penetrated his mind, eating away at his own memories.

"Please… Please, stop… Don't do this to me…" First Aide whimpered as the door to his prison opened and Hook walked in, swooping down to gather him in his arms.

"Shh… My sweetspark… The pain will pass… The pain will pass…" First Aide choked on a moan as large hands swept down his body, stroking his waist and thigh, fondling him gently and brushing his fingers over delicate clasps to armor pieces. First Aide gasped and grabbed at a large hand, Hook lacing their fingers together in a mockery of a lover's tender hold.

"Would you rather I bombard your systems by hooking them up to Soundwave's reformat machine? You would be in agony for days, weeks on end… Writhing on the table, screaming for me, for my touch, if only to soothe the pain…"

First Aide shuddered at the voice, clinging to his captor as if he was his only comfort in the universe.

"Shh… My sweetspark… Shh… He'd hurt you so much… I'll ease your pain… You'll remember…"

_The body was still warm, covered in energon and spark plasma and lubricant. Scalpel moaned as he laid amongst the gore, face spattered with the violet, pink and blue liquids and panel open as he thrust his own fingers into his port._

"_Couldn't even wait for me, sweetspark?" Hook's smooth voice called and Scalpel trembled as he looked over at him._

"_He became unstrapped… I had to kill him… It would have been a waste if he got away."_

_Hook looked over the positively enormous mech with Scalpel sprawled across the broad lap, legs spread wide and lounging against the corpse for all the world as if it were a throne._

"_Ah!" Scalpel threw his head back and Hook smirked at the debauched mech, sauntering over slowly before sinking to his knees, pushing the smaller mech's hands away. Scalpel moaned and wrapped his arms around Hook's neck, tracing his face and pressing his mouth to Hook's as the larger mech pressed two of his large fingers into Scalpel._

_Scalpel whimpered and bucked as the pain translated as pleasure, the muddled insides of his pleasure shot processors fritzing and crackling with electricity as he neared overload. Hook chuckled and added a third finger, watching his mate for any signs of discomfort. Scalpel wailed and his chestplates rattled, trying to keep closed as Hook added yet another finger._

"_Hook!" Scalpel choked when Hook managed to ram his fist into the small port, grinning at the shrieks of pleasured pain and the writhing body beneath him._

"_You have a greedy port there, Scalpel…" Hook chuckled, biting and kissing the younger mech's neck and shoulder. "I wonder if I could fit another…" Scalpel whined and whimpered as Hook thrust his fist in and out of Scalpel's port, slowly working another finger in. Scalpel's optics whited out momentarily before he shrieked, sobbing and thrusting against his lover._

"_Primus!" Scalpel choked and Hook smirked._

"_Close enough, Sweetspark."_

_Scalpel bit his own hand when Hook added a seventh digit, then an eight, unable to contain himself when a ninth was added and screaming, arching in agony as he clung to his lover, his plating warping and twisting in ways it should not to accommodate the intrusions of the two hands._

"_You know I could paralyze you right now…" Hook purred and Scalpel shuddered as he heard the click of Hook's panel opening. "I could just grab your motor cables…" He stroked said cables, sending jolts of liquid pleasure through Scalpel's body before pinching one, sending his lover convulsing in pleasure, his legs jerking and twitching in reaction. "And pull them out… And you would never be able to leave me…" He gently strummed the tightly wound cables, considering his statement. He could, indeed, paralyze his lover, trap him, make sure he never left…_

"_Hook… Please…" The mech looked down and realized that he was thrusting his spike in alongside his hands, Scalpel's chestplates wide open and his spark exposed, red eyes staring up at him. "I want you…"_

_The Constructicon stared before diving forward, thrusting his spark against the smaller mech's._

First Aide shuddered and sobbed after the spark-merge induced overload, feeling filthy and painfully full. His spark crackled in its casing happily, Hook's presence making his body betray him.

"Why are you doing this? I'm not Scalpel… These aren't my memories…"

"You'll be him soon enough, sweetspark." Hook murmured from his position with his head cradled against First Aide's spark chamber. "Soon…"

First Aide gritted his teeth, optics offlined as he endured the pain. It felt like someone was taking a hammer to his cranium, beating it in time with his sparkbeat. The memories were filled with energon and darkness, burning red optics. While they didn't carry the emotions of Scalpel, the carried his point of view and the sensations they induced in him.

"_Hook… Ich liebe Sie."_

****

Ratchet stared at the scanner before growling and throwing it aside, grabbing a new one and holding it up to his spark chamber. The results were the same, even the sixth time around.

"I'm carrying." He whispered to the air and covered his face, shaking with suppressed sobs as he sank to the floor, trying to keep himself together. The last thing he needed was for someone to come in and see him acting completely out of character. He had always been emotional when carrying, with Scalpel the mood swings had been amazing.

Scalpel… He didn't want another sparkling like that. He sighed and stared at his hands, coming to his decision. He would tell Wheeljack, and when the sparkling was born he would give it to Mirage or to Jazz, two mechs who were unable to carry but wanted sparklings anyway. They would be able to raise it better than Ratchet.

He had already failed once. He couldn't stand to do it again.

"_Scalpel, why are you doing this?" Ratchet screamed over the roar of gunfire. There was his sparkling, standing before him covered in energon, his bright red optics flared brightly while his chest bore the jagged purple symbol._

"_Because jou lied to me!" Scalpel screamed, sobbing as he grabbed his creator. "Jou said I vas Autobot! I vas to be medic! Jou lied! Jou – jou!" Scalpel gave a pained scream as a shot exploded against his shoulder, sending him stumbling. Another shot, and another and suddenly he fell against a crumbling building, the unsteady structure wavering and leaning._

"_Scalpel!" Ratchet called, reaching out as the building began to fall. Scalpel looked up, screaming as the entire structure fell upon him._

"_No!" Ratchet screamed, racing towards the destroyed building. He was grabbed by a familiar, thick arm._

"_Ratchet, we have to retreat!" Prime stated in his deep, commanding voice._

"_No!" Ratchet sobbed, reaching for his sparkling as the bond that he shared with his youngling was severed violently by his death. "Scalpel!"_

_He caught a small flash of red and the pain reached it's climax, Ratchet's back arching violently before his optics shorted and he fell limp in Prime's arms._

_Hook was the first on the scene, grunting as he lifted large pieces of metal and strut, staring down at the broken body beneath him._

"_No!" Hook howled, the pained scream echoing around them as he pulled the broken form to his chest, cradling him as he stroked the rounded skull gently. "No! No! No! No!"_

"_Hook!" The other Constructicons approached him and Hook snarled at them, hugging the body to his chest firmly._

"_Get away!" He mindlessly shrieked, burying his face in Scalpel's hollow chest, shaking as he knelt in the carnage, his mate's energon and spark plasma covered him. "Scalpel…" He moaned, rocking as he curled over the little body._

_The other Constructicons circled their oldest member, shocked at the raw display of emotion, unshielded and vulnerable in the death of their young comrade. They hadn't been able to establish the gestalt bond with Scalpel, his death was like a quick stunning blast that left little to no pain for them as it echoed across Hook's end of the link._

"_It's alright, Hook…" Scavenger whispered, gently stroking Hook's long crane. "We'll wait." _

_And they did as Hook finally allowed the entirety of his pain to show, throwing his head back and letting out a strut rattling howl, moaning and screaming in pain for the next several hours, his gestalt-mates comforting him as the entire city was cleared out._


	4. Chapter 4

Monster 6

Reprogramming was complex, dangerous and painful. One could never be sure that anyone would really survive the reprogramming, and if they did then they were more like drones than actual mechs, going about their lives mindlessly with little to no actual processor function taking place. It was a cruel half-life and most Cybertronians, Autobot and Decepticon alike, rarely enjoyed reprogramming.

The Robosmasher had been an actual stroke of genius on Megatron's part, seeing as it reprogrammed only key components of a mech's personality, more often than not releasing pent up inhibitions and desires at the same time. It didn't leave the mechs repressed and traumatized, rather it enabled them to become freer and bolder.

The Constructicons had been one of the many cases successful converts of the reprogram and Hook, the dedicated engineer he was, had quickly set upon the Robosmasher upon it's retirement, taking the key components and rebuilding it using the blueprints of Scalpel's own interrogation chair.

First Aide had been seated in it when the Decepticon programming had fully installed and the mech had slowly mellowed out. He was slightly drugged looking as he sat in the chair, various tubes and wires spilling from his cranium, connected to machines, terminals and monitors as Hook slowly, carefully, worked on his cranium, removing certain chips and boards.

"I feel funny." First Aide slurred, watching Hook move across the room once most of his personality programs had been removed. He had been reduced to casual observations as to how things looked "loopy" or sounded "weird". Naturally his perceptions were altered with his entire cranium under observation.

Hooks lab had become far too full for the reprogramming station and upon asking Megatron for a place to set it up he had told the mech to set it up in the large "throne" room. This was not without it's own perils, many of the Decepticons were not happy with having an Autobot within their fortress without him being in the brig. There had been several attempts on First Aide's life but the small bot seemed capable of making loud, sparkling-like sounds whenever a mech he didn't recognize came near. When Motormaster had had come, stalking towards First Aide. The young mech, not recognizing the larger mech, had screamed loudly and wailed, summoning Bonecrusher, who had been the nearest Constructicon, who had quickly grabbed Motormaster and begun mauling him.

First Aide also seemed to have several other sparkling-like behaviors. He seemed to have imprinted with Megatron in a creator-like way and reached out to the silver mech whenever the warlord ran by, listening attentively whenever he spoke and smiling and giggling happily when he was graced with attention from the mech.

This behavior, however, was pale in comparison to how he treated the Constructicons. He frequently needed touch from them, something that gestalt programming carried with it naturally. Scavenger, being the youngest, would often be found curled around First Aide, sometimes playing simple games on a datapad with the small bot. First Aide also had very little motor functions or physical abilities and needed to be fed by the other mechs. Bonecrusher and Long-Haul seemed to be, surprisingly, the most matronly and would be the ones who would slowly, carefully, feed First Aide. Scrapper and Mixmaster also were very fond of First Aide – especially his very curious nature. Mixmaster had brought energon candies once and First Aide had been wide-opticed as he accepted the treats and slowly nibbled on them. Mixmaster would cackle and give him more, the regressed mech eagerly taking them – until Scrapper had come and beat Mixmaster about the head and give First Aide small puzzle-toys. These never really seemed to last long as First Aide fiddled and played with them before handing them back to Scrapper. Even one of Hook's old sparkling toys – a toy with at least a dozen sides of various colors that was similar to the human's rubix cubes – had lasted little more than a few hours.

Needless to say, the Constructicons were smitten. But none as much as Hook. While the crane would mostly prod and fiddle with First Aide's cranium, there were times where he would talk with First Aide, patiently telling him about what they had done, what they would do. He would stroke and gently kiss the Autobot, smiling as he allowed First Aide to paw at his visor curiously, making strange vocalizations and seeming to recognize the other mech. He also seemed to want Hook's visor. He would paw and occasionally steal the glass item. He would giggle and hold the glass to his own optics, cooing and looking around happily through the red lens.

Hook smiled at this as First Aide cooed and looked at him, bouncing happily as he held the visor to his optics.

"Pwetty!" He squealed, kicking and laughing as Hook reached out to tap his nose, glancing at the nearest monitor. It had a download bar on it that had been up for the entire day. It read in bold green glyphs "Download 76% Complete" and "3 hours until complete". The young mech merely smiled and giggled, holding out the visor.

"Hook!" He managed and Hook took the visor, covering his narrow, exotically shaped optics as he smiled and leaned forward to kiss the mech.

"It's time for recharge, First Aide." He whispered and the young mech nodded, rubbing his optics with his knuckles before slumping, recharge programs initiating as the reprogramming completed itself slowly.

It would be painful when he woke, but Hook could hold him through it…

First Aide woke with a gasp, whimpering and writhing. His wrists and legs were cuffed to the chair as he writhed, screaming and shaking his head.

The discomfort and strange fluttery feelings he had previously experienced had warped into an agonizing burn that spread like a disease through his cranium. It was an infectious disgusting acidic feeling, like something in him was melting. Lines of code and glyphs spun through his vision as programs were initiated. He saw prompts and installation acceptances as he struggled and tugged at his wrists, head tossing back and forth, optics rolling and flickering as he screamed.

"It will pass, my sweetspark." A familiar voice crooned and a small flutter of hope made First Aide keen loudly, desperately searching for the voice as instinctive affection made him cling to the comfort.

"H-hurts…" The young mech whimpered as he felt large servos holding his own bound ones. "Hhhhuurtss…" He howled and mechs began to come in, horrified fascination painting their faces as Hook grabbed the red and white mech's hands.

"Ich vill… Ich vill…" First Aide's backstruts arched sharply as he screamed the two words over and over. "Ich vill! Ich vill!"

First Aide thrashed against his bonds, blue optics flickering as the final strands of Scalpel's personality coding were fed into his cortex. He could feel the spite, the aggression and the petulance of the mech that he was becoming and the small part of him that was still strangely aware of his past was horrified that Ratchet could ever sire such a mech. That small part was almost instantly attacked by the raw Decepticon coding and the small medibot arched and shrieked in pain as his processor was eaten away and reprogrammed completely, his optics flickering off as he was forced into temporary stasis.

****

Ratchet gasped and pressed a servo to his chest, doubling over at the sharp throb in his spark. He gritted his denta and straightened, taking a deep vent as he returned to the report he was writing.

"Calm down, little one." He whispered, tapping his chest firmly. The tiny spark next to his fluttered in it's tank, letting out another throb, similar to a kick from a human baby. "You're much more troublesome than Scalpel had been." Ratchet sighed.

"Scalpel?" Ratchet jumped and turned, seeing Perceptor standing in the doorway.

"Isn't he that famous serial killer… The one that ate the sparks of his victims." The young mech placed a box of supplies on the berth beside the one Ratchet had been working at. "Did you know him? I studied his case. The psychologists were convinced that he was brought up in a household where cannibalism was forced upon him unwittingly." Perceptor stated, looking at Ratchet. "What do you think?"

Ratchet felt a deep guilt as he looked away. He paused before looking at Perceptor. Young, innocent Perceptor, so gentle and kind and perfectly helpful, always willing to lend a hand, whether to help with a project or simply hold someone else's when they were suffering.

"Percy… Have you ever delivered a sparkling?" Ratchet asked, Perceptor shaking his head. Ratchet gestured for him to come over, taking the small black hand and holding it to his abdominal plating.

"Ratchet, what are you-"

"Wait…"

Perceptor almost jumped out of his armor as he felt the sudden hard flutter.

"Ratchet!" Perceptor smiled up at him. "A sparkling? You're going to have a sparkling!" Perceptor jumped and happily grinned up at the other mech. "How wonderful!"

"Percy…" Ratchet held the small hand as he looked down at the younger mech. "Percy… I want you to be it's caretaker."

Percy blinked owlishly, surprised by the statement.

"But Ratchet… It's your sparkling…"

Ratchet looked down and sighed.

"I… I can't raise it… Percy…" He took the smaller mech's hands and Perceptor blinked. "Please… I need you to take care of it. Promise me that you will."

Perceptor blinked once more before slowly nodding.

"I will, Ratchet… I will…" Perceptor whispered, staring at the older mech. "But… What about Wheeljack?"

"I'll be telling him soon… You just make sure that you get ready for being a sire."

****

"Hook?" Scalpel stared down at his hands in horror. "Hook?" He looked up and around the room he was in, beginning to panic as he tried to search for his mate, feeling warmth across his bond as the older mech silently told him he was on his way. After feeling his mate the mech calmed down and waited impatiently, pacing his small prison. It was an uncomfortable little room, but it had a berth and a shelf with some interesting semantics on datapads stacked neatly on them.

"Scalpel." Hook sighed, sweeping forward and pulling his small mate into his arms, the smaller mech surprised.

"Hook, vhat's vrong? Jou are acting as if I haf been gone for zhe millennia."

"You have." Hook whispered, sinking to the ground and pulling his mate into his arms. "You were gone for so long, Sweetspark, I missed you so much…" Scalpel was silent as he held his mate, stroking Hook's helm gently and resting his chin on the larger mech's helm as Hook pressed his audial to his chest, listening to his sparkbeat contentedly.

"Vhat is zhis body? Zhis is not being my body."

"No, but don't worry, I'll fix it all soon." Hook smiled up at his mate, tracing his face and kissing him softly. "Everything will be right soon."

"Vhere is being Creator Ratchet? Is zhe old drunk still online?" Scalpel asked curiously and Hook nodded.

"He's an Autobot, stationed on the Ark."

"Perhaps I should be paying a visit, if jou missed me zhen I am being sure my Creator Dearest vas vorried sick." Scalpel smirked and Hook grinned, nuzzling the other mech's stomach.

"I missed your twisted processor, Scalpel."

"Aww, jou're so sveet to mich!"

****

Scalpel's body was quickly stripped to the bare protoform and built up from there. His left arm was completely removed and replaced by a loosely plated one with a small circular saw at the elbow joint and a glass lens through the palm. His body was a plain gray and would remain so until Megatron approved of the young mech. Scalpel's large optics were replaced and the only major parts of his protoform that were armored were his chest, forearms, shoulders, hips and lower legs. His wide optics were a violent red with a large red lens at the center of his forehead. He stood smaller than most Decepticons and less heavily armed, but he was just as lethal, his armor made of nothing but sharp spikes and his transformative left arm able to transform into a heat ray, scalpel, circular saw and into his signature energon-bladed fingers.

"He's just as pretty as he was in Hook's memory files."

"You really outdid yourself, Scrapper, the design is flawless."

"I-I Th-think he'll l-like it it."

"Hook, how did you not cut yourself on that."

"Shut up."

"Come on, guys, we need to finish up so we can bring him out of stasis."

The Constructicons ceased their bickering in order to put the last touches on Scalpel's feet, installing small skates and thrusters to allow him speedy transportation. He wouldn't have the flight capabilities of the seekers, but he would be fast.

Scalpel's optics onlined once they were done and he groaned, stretching new wires and turning around to crack his joints and struts back into place.

"Mm… Vell, let us be seeing vhat jou did." He gestured to the mechs before him and Scavenger led Scalpel to a piece of polished steel, allowing the smaller mech to turn and look himself over. "Very nice…" He murmured and the Constructicons preened. Hook's mate approved. Their mate approved. "Nov." Scalpel turned to the Constructicons and smirked. "A revard is being in order, ja?" The six mechs were silent before they all moved forward to set upon their newest member. Hook had already bonded with him, now they needed to reaffirm their gestalt bond with the smaller mech. He wouldn't be able to combine with them, but he would be privy to the other mechs' thoughts, just as Hook was.

Scalpel laughed as he was engulfed in the mass of purple and green limbs, wrapping his arms around Scrapper's neck and Scavenger's waist, leaning forward to lock lips with Hook while Mixmaster felt over the curves of his waist. Long-Haul and Bonecrusher were fighting over touching Scalpel's chestplate and pelvic armor.

Scalpel sighed as he was lavished with attention from his new mates, his chestplates flying open when Hook tapped them gently. The gestalt opened their own chestplates and soon, in a tangle of cables, wires and gushing sparks the bond was completed.

It would take hours to buff out the claw marks and repaint the patches of rubbed off paint, but it was worth it to feel one another for the first time.

****

"Megatron, this is the Constructicon Bondmate, Scalpel." Scrapper gestured to Scalpel and Megatron looked down at the small gray form. He ran a light scan on the mech and frowned.

"His spark energy reads Autobot."

"Unfortunately his spark was donated by an Autobot, the Autobot medic-in-training First Aide."

"My Creators vere bozh Autobot und Decepticon. Zhe Autobot Senior Medic Ratchet und zhe Decepticon Hannibal, to being exact."

"Polyhexian?" Megatron asked, surprised at the accent. Many of those of Polyhex had died out at the beginning of the war.

"Creator Hannibal vas, My liege." Scalpel smirked. "I inherited many of his traits."

"Polyhexians were not known for their cannibalism, Lord Megatron, but it was a vital part of their religion and ritualistic lives."

"And yet an Autobot married one? Doesn't that go against their code?" Megatron sneered down at the Halfling before him and Scalpel gave a chuckle.

"Ratchet is naieve, despite himself, Lord Megatron, he was unaware of Hannibal or Scalpel's… Unique traits until far later in life than necessary."

Megatron hummed and looked Scalpel over. The small gray mech bore no insignia and he appeared to have a microscope alt-mode. Certainly not a warrior. But the Constructicons were vital to the cause, and they always needed a medic or two… Perhaps keeping the young Cannibal would be beneficial in the long run.

"Hmmm… He may stay. But only for so long as he proves his worth." Megatron waved the Constructicons and medic off, taking in the small smirk on Scalpel's china-doll face.

"As my liege commands."

Megatron watched the microscope leave, taking in the sway of his hips and the way the larger mechs flocked to him. Bonecrusher rumbled happily when Scalpel graced him with a hand brushing under his chin, Scavenger trilling for attention.

The warlord had to admit, he was quite pretty, for a Constructicon…


	5. Chapter 5

Monster 7

"Ratchet, leave him, he's a Decepticon!"

"I'm not leaving another mech to suffer!" Ratchet stumbled over the debris from the fallen buildings, shoving aside a large panel to reveal the white and black mech's shattered body. He lay with his legs crushed and his optic's flickering slightly.

"Vhat's up, Doc?" The mech chuckled in a thick Polyhexian accent, smiling crookedly at the medic. "I am being a hardvare donor, are jou needing any?"

"Worst pickup line ever." Ratchet chuckled, looking over the mech's pelvis. "Can you move your legs?"

He couldn't.

"I'm going to have to check your motor-wires, open your interface panel."

"I never am opening up vizhin zhe first five minutes, Doc!"

"You perverse little thing." Ratchet murmured, shaking his head and grabbing the sides of the panel, manually unclasping the panel and revealing the hardware. He had to keep himself from staring at the rather large spike port as he slid his fingers into the port, the mech groaning and jerking slightly when Ratchet found the severed and kinked motor cables. "Slag. I'm going to have to take you back to the medical facilities." He began to pull out his fingers and the mech grasped his wrist.

"Nov don't stop nov, Doc!"

"What the-" The mech rolled his torso and Ratchet found himself trapped beneath an amazing amount of mech, his hand being thrust into the leaking port. "You are perverse!"

"Jou vere zhe one vho started it!"

**XXXX**

"How are you feeling, Hannibal?" Ratchet smiled at his patient, the mech looking factory-fresh. His tattoos gleaming brightly against his strong face.

"Very gut." The mech smiled and stood, leaning over the smaller medic. "Zhank jou, Ratchet." He leaned down and grabbed the medic's hands, leaning forward. "Vhen jou valked in zhe door jour beauty hit me so hard zhat I have a priapism from all zhe trauma."

"Ugh! Polyhexians!"

"Don't go baby!" Hannibal laughed when the medic shoved him away and running out the door, leaving the larger mech cackling loudly.

****

"We can't just leave him with the Decepticreeps!"

"Calm down, Blades!"

"I ain't gonna calm down until First Aide is back!"

"We can't get him back." The Protectobots looked at their creator. He had a hand on his chestplates, staring at the medical berth before him.

"We have to!"

"What do you mean we can't?"

"Yeah, we've gotten plenty of mechs back from them!"

"He won't be the same." Ratchet sighed. "I didn't want to tell you but Mirage just came back… He witnessed First Aide being reformatted and bonding with the Constructicons… He's not First Aide anymore… His name is Scalpel."

"But… Aide…"

"He's dead. I'm sorry… I couldn't protect him."

"Can't we reformat him again? Deprogram him?"

Ratchet was silent. He had seen deprogrammed mechs, mechs turned back to their original state after a reprogramming… They were unstable at best. Prone to mood swings and being constantly irritable and distant. They weren't the mechs they were before. First Aide would be no different.

'Giving up so easily, Ratchet? Or can you just not bare to lose Scalpel again?' Hannibal's voice was mocking in his mind and Ratchet clenched his hands. He didn't care whether Scalpel lived or died. He had proven where his loyalties lay years ago.

"We could try… But I have to warn you that he might not be the same."

"We just want First Aide back here, we want our brother back, Ratchet."

"I know, Streetwise…"

Wheeljack stared at his mate as the Protectobots left, watching them before turning back to Ratchet.

"You've been rubbing your chest a lot… lemme take a look-see."

"Wheeljack, that's unnecessary." Ratchet dropped his hand before he began rubbing again. The newspark was moving again and it left an irritating ache in his chest. "I already know the problem."

"Well what is it? You haven't told me and whenever we bond you're closed off." Wheeljack sounded slightly accusing and Ratchet flinched.

"I'm sorry, I just… I…" He looked up at the other mech and felt his spark breaking as bright blue eyes stared at him with concern. "I'm carrying…"

Wheeljack was silent before he was laughing and hugging Ratchet tightly.

"That's wonderful! Oh, Ratchet, that's brilliant!" But Ratchet was frowning, staring down sadly. "Ratchet, what's wrong?"

"Just… I already failed with Scalpel… I don't want to do it again."

"Ratchet. Scalpel's Coder was a DECEPTICON. He controlled what codes Scalpel was born with. None of that was your fault!"

"I know, but-"

"Listen, Ratchet, our sparkling will be Autobot, we will be fine. He will be perfect."

Ratchet looked down at his hands.

"He's not ours, Wheeljack."

"What?" Wheeljack paused and Ratchet looked up at him.

"For the sparkling's own good, I'm giving it to Perceptor."

"Ratchet…" Wheeljack whispered, staring at his mate. "But… Ratchet, it's-"

"I've already ruined one sparkling." Ratchet whispered. "I won't be responsible for another one."

The medic turned, pushing Wheeljack aside gently before leaving the medbay, refusing to look back as he walked.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Don't kill me for not updating sooner! Review please, so that I know people actually read this shit!

Scalpel was prone to being very cuddly. Scavenger found this out the hard way when he was suddenly grabbed from his small storage closet and thrown onto his berth in the community room for the Constructicons. Scalpel then promptly climbed ontop of him, grabbed his arms and wrapped them around him before snuggling into his chest. Scavenger was a little worried about this behavior, but with such a pretty little mech in his arms he wasn't complaining. Besides, the others were all busy and he had just been organizing his "junk" as Scrapper called it.

So now he was sitting with a very homicidal yet strangely affectionate little mech in his arms.

"Hmm…" Scalpel hummed, snuggling deeper and caressing Scavenger's chest, optics dim and lips pulled into a tight smirk.

"Um… Scalpel?" Scavenger squeaked at the end of the sentence when Scalpel's fingers plunged into his seams, clicking at his armor and wires, lethal claws that could kill him easily caressing him intimately. It was a strange high and Scavenger saw why Hook and Scalpel enjoyed it. Releasing all control to another, allowing them to hold their lives in their servos… It made one feel relaxed and just free…

"So… I've always wondered…" Scalpel sat up, straddling Scavenger with his hand still wrist deep in seams. "What the most sensitive part of your body is."

Even though he probably had it all figured out by now… Scavenger whimpered as Scalpel removed his hand and began exploring him. Thin lips pressed to Scavenger's faceplate where his mouth should have been. The few sensors in it made it one of the least sensitive places on his body and Scalpel didn't linger on it, instead brushing his mouth and glossa along the larger mech's neck and audials. Scavenger let out a low sound of pleasure and curled his tail around the smaller mech, gasping as he was suddenly rolled over and straddled, pushed firmly onto the berth on his stomach. Scalpel smirked as he scraped long claws over the soft metal, purring loudly as Scavenger keened, his tail twitching as the tender touches continued.

"Ja…" Scalpel whispered, leaning down and pressing his hips down against Scavenger, his moist port hot and leaking as he ground against the older mech's aft, his claws suddenly digging into the green back armor.

Scavenger yelped but rocked back against Scalpel, whimpering as he thrust back. There was a sound of raucus laughter and Scalpel whined as he turned his head to see who it was, his disappointment suddenly turning to an even headier brand of excitement. Long Haul and Bonecrusher were laughing at some private joke, obviously intent on finding Scavenger and sharing. Their optics alit on the two in the middle of their acts and they froze for a few seconds.

"Come, mein darlings…" Scalpel gave a seductive wink and instantly the two mechs were upon their gestaltmates, touching and pulling, Scalpel snarling as he quickly asserted his dominance, slashing viciously across a shoulder and beating the rowdier mechs into submission. "Mine!" Scalpel snarled, grabbing Bonecrusher's face tightly and kissing him roughly. The other mechs, now subdued, were quick to allow Scalpel his way, watching as the smallest of the Constructicons bestowed his attentions as he saw fit.

Scalpel was rarely soft and compliant. He was a port-mech, true, but he was by no means submissive. He was submissive only to Hook – a fact that his other mates found slightly irritating but understandable. Hook was… well, he was Hook. He held an air of leadership and confidence, despite his oftentimes damning apathy, which Scrapper sorely lacked. He had charisma, a certain charm about him that made mechs and femmes alike melt under his amorous attentions despite his lack of aesthetic appeal.

Scalpel, despite his dominating and overwhelming nature, would coo and fawn and fall helm over pedes for Hook without truly giving his actions away as such weak, pathetic attentions. It was as amusing as it was infuriating to the other Constructicons and most Decepticons. Scalpel was everything any mech could ask for in a berth made – sans submissive, wanton and even remotely sane – and he chose Hook? Where was the logic in that?

Bonecrusher howled with pain and pleasure as Scalpel slammed down onto him, snarling as he started a brutal, punishing pace, somehow managing to force Bonecrusher onto his back while Long Haul pressed to his own back, roughly entering the already filled port with his own spike. To his credit, Scalpel merely snarled even more, one arm wrapping around Long Haul's neck, pulling his head closer as he held Bonecrusher's face to his chest where the other mech was doing sinfully delicious things to his microscope tray.

Scavenger whimpered and wriggled as his hips were forced up, squealing loudly when his own spike was engulfed by Scalpel's port, hearing a slight creak of warping plating.

Overload came far too quickly and by the time it was done Scalpel was relaxed and pliant beneath his lovers, tracing rigid helms and thick shoulders as he happily hummed and laid beneath the three larger mechs…

News spread like a virus across the Ark and soon Jazz and the twins had organized a celebration party. Perceptor and Ratchet were in attendance and Wheeljack was reluctantly trailing along, unhappy about Ratchet's decision to give the sparkling away even before it was born. His sullenness was momentarily forgotten, though, when Spike and Carly asked about how Sparklings were made. Then Perceptor had pulled him aside along with Ratchet to work out the young one's armor so that Wheeljack could start working on it.

Ratchet laughed and smiled when he revealed his chest, showing the small, transparent tank within him that had the skeletal protoform hidden within. The younger mechs ooed and awed and the humans looked amazed. Optimus and Ironhide gently patted Ratchet on the shoulders, saying how big the sparkling was getting.

It was during this time where Perceptor pulled Wheeljack away to the privacy of the hallway, the young microscope staring at the older mech intently.

"Why does Ratchet not want the sparkling?" He asked bluntly and Wheeljack blinked, surprised by the sudden question.

"I'm sure you can figure it out, Perceptor."

"I have my theories." The young mech stated calmly. "But I want facts. The truth."

"The truth?" Wheeljack frowned. "You should be asking Ratchet."

"He won't tell me. And what he does tell me is very vague." Perceptor slumped slightly. "Wheeljack, I want Ratchet to keep this sparkling just as much as you, but I won't refuse the sparkling if he is adamant. I just want to know what happened so that I can better understand his decisions."

Wheeljack was silent for a few moments before leaning against the wall with a sigh.

"You read the case studies on cannibalism, Perceptor. You know how rare and uncommon it is. Most mechs argue its part of programming, others that the way the sparkling is raised determines cannibalism later on." Wheeljack rubbed his optics. "The two most famous cases of cannibalism are Hannibal and Scalpel. Both Polyhexian, both extremely religious… And both part of Ratchet's family unit."

Perceptor, needless to say, was shocked. Wheeljack heaved a sigh and continued.

"Ratchet didn't know about Hannibal, it was only in later years did he realize just what his mate was. By then, Scalpel was a youngling and Ratchet was terrified that his creation had learned some of his Coder's less desirable habits. Hannibal died mysteriously and even I don't know how he died, only Ratchet. Needless to say, living in fear and raising a sparkling on his own, Ratchet was slightly frazzled. He thought he had done well with Scalpel, the signs still unrecognized at the time, until he found Scalpel feeding…" Wheeljack looked away, imagining the scene he had witnessed so many times in Ratchet's encrypted memory files, vivid and accurate to a fault.

"Ratchet was terrified of his own creation and blamed himself for what had happened… He never wanted a sparkling after that… Now this… He's pregnant and he is afraid that if he keeps the sparkling it will end up just like Scalpel simply because he is a bad parent."

Silence. Perceptor looked stunned as he stared at Wheeljack, eventually nodding and whispering a soft,

"I see… Well…" Perceptor nodded. "I'll take the sparkling… But I still want it to know that you two are it's creators."

Wheeljack smiled behind his mask and smiled.

"Thank you… I'd like that… Very much…"

The feed cut out and bright red optics narrowed as sharp, fang-like denta pulled back into a slow grin. Megatron leaned back in his throne, contemplating this new information.

"Well, well, well…." He hummed to himself, licking his denta happily. "Well, well, well…"

This proved to be exceptionally promising…


	7. Reviewing Monster

I am at the point in this story where I believe it is only fair to warn any bitchy, cock-sucking bastard sons/daughters of bitches out there who think that this story is not worth continuing.

Let me direct your attention to the cowardly, bigoted review I recently received.

From: anonymous ()

i think your story is a piece of crap. i really happen to like first aid and  
it pissed me off when if found this piece of shit. you better change him back.  
you also better not let the decepticons get ratchets new sparkling

Now I would like to point out several things about this statement that PISSES ME OFF.

This story is a FANFIC. It is not meant to be a literary work of art and should not be taken seriously.

If this story is such a piece of crap why did you read so far into it?

If this story DISGUSTS you so much and you just plain don't like it then why do you think I want to hear your bitching about it?

I really like First Aide too. I think he is a sweet, innocent and absolutely beguiling young mech that I really rarely ever pick on. The reason he was chosen as the main character was because in my mind he is like a literary foil to Hook.

I do not bow down and do whatever my reviewers say. If I want First Aide to stay as Scalpel then you had better put on your big boy (or girl) pants, suck it up and grow a pair of balls or breasts. I will not take orders from pissy, whiney little children who are probably half my age. I WAS WATCHING THE FUCKING SERIES WHEN IT FIRST CAME OUT FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!

Also, I believe I mentioned this in previous fics: I AM THE AUTHOR! I HAVE THE POWER TO FUCK WITH WHOEVER I WANT AND NOBODY CAN SAY SHIT ABOUT IT BECAUSE I AM AN AMERICAN AND I HAVE FREEDOM OF SPEECH!

I prefer reviews to be constructive in some way. I am perfectly fine with sweet little encouragements but if you have a problem with the story it had better be related to grammar, spelling or continuity and not about the content. I give fair warnings and suggest that people listen to them.

Also, anyone who does an anonymous review marked "anonymous" is a pussy and will be used as an example of what I do to people who don't have the balls and breasts to tell me what they think.

And so, in conclusion I would like to wish any reviewers the best of thoughts on this story. I now bid you adieu, my sweets and leave you with the statement that flames and complaints will be crucified, drawn and quarters, boiled in hot oil, have the pear of anguish shoved in their mouths and anuses and placed on the Cathrine wheel to die a slow death.

Love,

thebrokencradle


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